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?? CHAPTER 6 ??
Macie
The huge alien-man who just saved my life now lunges at me with a vicious snarl. I shriek and I try to scramble to my feet. But I’m too slow, too shaken after being swept away by a hurricane. I only manage to slip and sprawl out on the ground.
He pounces on me. He tears the back collar of my jumpsuit and then tears the material halfway down my back, to the place where I just discovered I’m bleeding.
“Ow!” I try to slap at his hands, but I’m flat on my stomach and can’t twist away. He’s got a knee on one of my shoulders. He isn’t hurting me - God, he could crush me flat if he decides to - but I’m pretty damn well trapped.
He presses gently at the painful spot on my back. I hadn’t noticed it before. It must have been all the adrenaline. Now, though, I can feel the pulsing pain of a puncture wound there, hot blood running down my ribs.
Knowing how much that minor abrasion on my ankle upset him, this is going to throw him into a rage.
“Get off of me!” I shout. “I have a kit!” This flight suit is chock full of personal survival gear. If he’d only let me reach it, I could bandage myself, start a fire, filter some water...
But with no shared language, how can I communicate this?
I stretch for the only pocket I can reach, the narrow one at my hip. He pokes and prods me while I fiddle down the zipper. My flashlight rolls out, clattering on the rocks.
He snatches it up. He makes a rumbling sound like a question. “Light,” I say. I slap at his knee. “Get OFF.”
Finally, he shifts his weight from my shoulder. I sit up with a groan. Everything is starting to hurt, now. That tumble down the mud river battered and bruised every part of me. And that was with this big alien hugging me to his broad chest. I shudder. What if he hadn’t grabbed me? What if it had swept me away alone?
Dead. I’d be dead. I shiver and I rub my arms.
He flicks the flashlight on and off, then tucks it into his boot. He reaches for my suit. I slap his hand and I shout at him, “Stop that!” This time he drops his hands to his sides and rumbles something.
“That had better be an apology.” I hold my hands up. “Stay.” I know he was just trying to examine my injury, but damn. He has no manners. I give him one last warning scowl, then kneel back down on the hard ground. He squats across from me. I avert my eyes - his kilt dangles freely, and my mind flashes back to my first glimpse of him. Is he... contained somehow beneath that kilt? I don’t like the idea of him manhandling me with that club between his legs just bobbing all over the place. Still, the kilt is better than nothing.
I shake my head. Not an important train of thought right now! He did save my life. The alien saved my life. I have to keep reminding myself. He’s terrifying, but he isn’t here to kill me and eat me. Right?
He grumbles, breaking my spiraling thoughts.I empty my pockets between us. He watches, but he keeps his hands to himself.
Everything should be okay - the pockets are supposed to be waterproof. I pull out a pen and a pad of paper - so far so good. I pull out the water filter, a disk that can fold into a long straw. Definitely very necessary. I find a medicine packet stocked with ibuprofen and decongestant and the trusty pink tablets for upset stomachs.
When I drop a packet of gauze bandages in the pile, Ryle snatches them away with an impatient grunt. He grabs me by an elbow, stands us both up, and spins me around.
I don’t protest this time. He’s stronger than me and way too determined. And since it seems like all he wants to do is patch me up in a spot that I can’t see anyway, I may as well let him. May as well be practical.
He tears open the bandage and, with a surprisingly gentle touch, applies it over the puncture on my back. His fingers are a rough texture. Judging by his lack of cuts and scrapes, he must have tougher and thicker skin than us. But he brushes me carefully as he presses the adhesive into place. I turn and I nod at him. “Thank you,” I say.
He nods back. “Thank.” He drops the wrapper on the ground.
“No littering,” I scold automatically. It was one of the many rules that were drilled into our heads before blasting away from earth - don’t make a mess of the land and the environment. Don’t make the same mistakes we’d already made. I stuff the trash into one of my pockets. He watches me with curiosity.
I pick up another bandage. “You?” I ask. I gesture at him with it. “Hurt?”
He spreads his arms and rotates them, showing no signs of bruises or bleeding. He barks something incomprehensible, but the meaning is clear - all good.
“I can’t believe I’m talking to an alien,” I say. I wonder if I should pinch myself. The bruises are pain enough, though. This is real.
He says something and pulls the flashlight back out of his boot. “That’s mine,” I say. He just gestures and heads towards the back of the cave. “Oh.” I spot what he’s so interested in - another crevice in the wall. Big enough for me to fit through, but a bit of a squeeze for him. “Shall I have a look?” I hold my hand out for the flashlight and start to step around him.
He yanks the light out of my reach and huffs, offended. He points at my feet and speaks. Lifts a hand in the same gesture I used earlier, palm out, for “stop.” Stay. He wants me to stay here.
Right, I guess it could be dangerous.
Being alone could be dangerous, too, though, so when he squeezes into the darkness, I follow despite his disapproving huffs and snarls. “May See,” he says, trying out my name again. But he’s in the crack now, so what’s he going to do about it? He shows me his teeth, but he keeps sidestepping further into the dark.
